Philly and Timmy were both open-mouthed with astonishment.
'Is that Uncle Ricky? Someone murdered Uncle Ricky?' Philly's voice was drenched in incredulity and shock. Timmy was near to tears, and Christine sat down heavily in the nearest chair, her mind whirling at the news. She was already shaking with fear and, standing up quickly, she ran from the room. She was holding her hand across her mouth as if to stop herself from making any sound. A voice in her head was screaming that it wasn't true, what she was thinking couldn't be true. Phillip wouldn't do that, he had got what he wanted, so surely there was no need for him to do that… But something inside her knew that she was wrong, was convinced that Phillip was involved somehow.
As she retched over the sink in the downstairs toilet, she heard the door opening behind her. She could feel Phillip's presence even before she looked in the bathroom mirror and stared straight into his eyes.
'I just heard, Chris. Fucking hell, it's unbelievable, ain't it?'
She nodded slowly, not trusting herself to speak.
'Come on, a cup of hot sweet tea for you. You've had a terrible shock, and so have the boys. I'm going to keep them home today.'
He walked her gently back to the kitchen and, sitting her down, he poured her a cup of tea and, after he laced it liberally with Courvoisier, he did the same for the two boys. Christine gulped the liquid, and watched her husband's reaction to the news.
'You all right, Timmy?'
The boy was crying silently, and Christine knew she should comfort him, but she couldn't move from the chair.
Phillip poured her another brandy, not bothering with the tea this time, and he also went and got her a couple of her pills. She took them gratefully, uncaring of the way the boys were watching her in disgust.
Just then, Breda and Declan came through the back door. Christine had never been so grateful to see anyone in her life before.
'I take it you've heard?' Breda went straight to Christine and hugged her tenderly. 'He was such a bloody fool, he made so many bloody enemies in the last few months, and he owed money everywhere. Even Phillip bailed him out, tried to help him, but he wouldn't be helped.'
Christine was listening to her sister-in-law as if what she was saying was gospel. She couldn't believe that the man who had come to her home for dinner, whose only crime had been wanting to keep his business, had been murdered by her husband, by the father of her children. But she knew whatever anyone said it was true; deep inside she knew this was Phillip Murphy at work.
Declan was pouring tea for him and Breda, and she saw Phillip filling up her brandy glass again. It suited him to get her pissed because he knew that she suspected him.
'But why would they kill him, Auntie Breda, what reason could they have to stab him?' This was her Philly now, he was shrewder than they gave him credit for.
She saw her husband shrug, all innocence and bewilderment, and she felt the urge to get out of the chair and fell him, take her arm back and just fell him to the ground.
'Look, boys,' Phillip replied. 'Uncle Ricky had a lot of problems, and he turned on a lot of his mates. People he had known for years. That was why I took the arcades off his hands, to try and help him out. But he had got in with some right villains, and they must have had it in for him.'
Christine watched as the lies tripped off his tongue but, looking at her Philly, her first-born, she saw that he wasn't swallowing any of it. Somehow he knew, and she felt like he approved of what his father had done. Her boy was so young, he shouldn't know the ways of his father's world just yet, but then how could he be oblivious to it? The Murphys were treated like visiting royalty on the seafront. Philly must have realised that it was his name that gave him so much attention. Phillip walked around with his sons like a king visiting his subjects. The boys were given free rides, money for the machines, free drink, free food. They had to know their father was a Face of sorts, they weren't fucking stupid.
The pills were kicking in, and she could feel herself detaching slowly from the people around her. She kept seeing Deandra's face as she had left their house that night, could still feel the squeeze she had given her on her shoulder as an apology for her husband's boorish behaviour. Poor Deandra, and those two little children.
Breda was watching Christine closely, and she motioned for Phillip to get the boys out of the room. Then she knelt in front of her sister-in-law and said kindly, 'Come on, Christine, let's get you back to bed, love, this has been a big shock for all of us.'
'Breda, tell me the truth and swear on your Porrick's life, was this anything to do with Phillip?'
Breda shook her head and sighed deeply as she said, 'I swear to you, on my boy's life, that this is not anything to do with us lot.' She sounded shocked at the accusation, and suitably offended as well.
Christine grabbed at her hands and held them tightly. 'I'm sorry, Breda, but just for a split second there… I can't help it, I get these thoughts.'
'Come on, mate, let's get you to bed, eh? We've all had a terrible shock, and it takes everyone in different ways. You're not well, love, and you need to rest.'
Christine went to bed obediently, glad to be away from the family, glad to be away from her husband.
When Phillip slipped in an hour later, she pretended to be asleep and, as his lips touched her face gently, she was only just able to stop herself from screaming out loud.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Veronica was at Phillip's house, as she had been for the last five days, taking care of the boys. It was something she had done many times over the years when Christine wasn't herself, as she liked to put it. The boys loved her looking after them, and usually that bothered Christine, but right now she was glad of the woman's company. She knew she couldn't be alone with Phillip yet. She was still reeling from the events of the last few days.
The police had questioned Phillip in front of Christine, and she had known then that they too suspected his hand in all this, but they couldn't prove it. He owned most of the police around here anyway. It was how their world worked – she had cooked for them and their wives enough times over the years. Phillip had always looked after them, had joked that if you looked after the Filth, the Filth would look after you. And it seemed he was right.
Veronica placed a cup of coffee in front of her and said gently, 'Shall I make you a nice omelette, Chris, something light and tasty?'
Christine sipped at the coffee obediently, but shook her head in refusal. 'I should have kept that doctor's appointment, was he all right about me changing it?'
Veronica smiled at her.' 'Course he was. Phillip explained you had received a terrible shock, and you were taking it easy for a while, and the doctor said that was the best thing for you. He said there would be a prescription for sleeping tablets at the surgery, and Phil's going to pick them up later on, so stop worrying. Once you get a good night's rest you'll feel much better.'
Christine nodded, she was tired out. 'Any news about Ricky? Have the police found out who did it yet?'
Veronica shook her head sagely. 'Sure, they'll never find out. It's like Phillip says, whoever did it is long gone. He thinks it was someone come over from Spain – apparently Ricky had ripped off a lot of people over there with a timeshare scam. So, it looks like there could be a few culprits in the mix. What a foolish man, eh? And I always liked him. He seemed pretty genuine, like, but then you never really know anyone, I suppose.'
'Were Phillip and Declan really round your house that night, Veronica?'
'How many times, child! They were there sorting out with Breda about the clubs and the new arcades. I wouldn't lie to you about something so important, I swear to you before God and man. Now stop asking me for Christ's sakes.'